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2014-05-15 - Sewing is Serious Business
Cassandra Cain has black fabric strewn all over the batcave, mostly in ragged strips that look like they were torn apart by hand. She's apparently had a few blowouts. Right now she's got a sewing needle in her teeth and is stitching a hem on the tie-end of a mask that probably should be velcro or one solid piece. Carrie comes down the stairs from the manor above carrying a tray with some mugs of hot chocolate and a few snacks courtesy of Alfred. When she sees the rather large mess that was strewn out on the floor she bites her lower lip repressing a smile at the attempts. "Seems like you have as much trouble with costumes as I do. Mine hasn't changed in years really. Just 'Robin'," she remarks with a shrug as she moves to place the tray down on the ground between them sinking down to sit crossed legs. Cassandra Cain waves a strip of fabric with loose threads at your arrival. She's sitting crosslegged, kind of hunched over, which would be really uncomfortable if she wasn't a freaking contortionist. "Mmm." Needle in mouth. She lifts the mask and shows it. Good eyeholes, in the right places, but it looks kind of like it'll tie off too short and not stay on the head. She eyes the cocoa though. Carrie gestures toward one of the cocoas when Cass looks at it. "Go ahead. It can get chilly down here at times," Even if it was a steady temprature once you got used to it. The mask that's held up is gestured towards as she remarks, "Looks a bit short but you might be able to add on some ends to tie it easier." Considering a moment she lifts both hands to gesture in a 'wrap around' motion behind her head as if she were tying off a mask. Cassandra Cain began to reach for the cocoa with a thank-you nod just as Carrie began to tell her that she could. She sips the cocoa, listening with her eyes at Carrie, and she sets the cocoa in her lap and puts aside the mask on her knee for a bit. She flattens it out on her leg, looking at the mask, and then actually tries it on. She runs her right hand down her face disgustedly when she visibly realizes the issue. Cassandra Cain puts aside the mask. She looks Carrie over thoughtfully, her lips pursing, and then makes a bat-symbol with her fingers. She does a respectable bat imitation. Then she points at Carrie directly, index finger out, and then reaches to her own smallish chest and lifts them a bit. A motion of her head emphasizes the point. Then she puts her hands back to the cup and sips. Carrie makes a mental note to research psychology regarding feral children or those that were unable to speak through normal means. It would be an interesting topic to add in to her psychology research and maybe help her out here. In the meantime she tries to work out what was said, or implied. "My costume?" She guesses only to give a shrug. Glancing down at the temporarily set aside mask she gestures toward it, "I can probably fix that. Just need to add a bit to the end. And my costume is... Well. It's a long story." Very long, and a story that she hadn't shared outside of Damian. "I would have probably been a Bat, in time." She knew she would have. A sip is taken over her own cocoa before she reaches out for another discarded strip of fabric. Cassandra Cain is watching Carrie talk intensely as she speaks. Probably best, since she's having to piecemeal together the message, and she reaches and taps Carrie on the shoulder with her right hand, just a touch. She makes sure that she's got Carrie's attention, then she taps Carrie's hiding place where she hides Batarangs. I know she's got some. Raising an eyebrow, she smiles just a little. Carrie pauses looking up toward Cass and when the hiding spot is pointed out--and it is--she smiles a bit. Sweeping back her shirt she reveals a little leather sheath meant to help hide them. A single batarang is removed as she regards it with quiet thought. "Guess I already am, huh?" Cassandra Cain has her full outfit just out of reach, obviously she's been working on it as well a bit or planned to do so. The leather outfit is torn in a lot of places; she tends to be hard on clothing. It's really not wearable at the moment, which is likely why she's been ending up shirt-on-head superhero of late. When Carrie says what she does, Cassandra's face absolutely lights up and she reaches to hug Carrie, just a little, but with relief in her motions. "Yes!" Carrie smiles brightly when Cassie reaches out to hug her. She knew hugs, and returns it with a firm grip. Not tight but she was certainly not bad at giving hugs. A quick laugh comes and she nods again working out the situation. "We'll get your costume fixed up good," she promises with another grin. Cassandra Cain appears to have finished her cocoa. She puts the cup down on the ground then spins it so the handle is a whir, amusing the girl a bit in her adhd brain. She returns to looking at the sewing and sighs, obviously not finding it to be her cup of tea. She flicks the legpiece away from her with a fingertip, then reaches for it and pulls it back. Picks up her needle again. Sewing leather is hard at the best of times, after all. She looks at the outfit, then frowns and stands up. Cass holds out the outfit by the shoulders, then snaps her fingers to make a mirror spin around on the wall. Seems this place has been used to tailor before. She holds the outfit against her body thoughtfully while looking in the mirror. It really wasn't surprising with how much of a perfectionist Bruce tended to be. Carrie watches, sipping at her own cocoa, and when Cass moves to model her costume in front of the mirror she stands as well. The redhead tips her head to the side to get a better view before holding up a finger. "Hang on a second," she remarks as she turns to walk over toward where she keeps her own costume stored. Opening the locker she rummages around a moment in a box within. Finding what she wanted she heads back over holding out one of the form fitted black masks that she carried with her for emergencies when needing a mask in a pinch. It was still a bat symbol, and black, but her main costume mask was green. "Maybe this would be a good replacement?" Cassandra Cain seems vaguely dissatisfied with her Black Bat outfit. She pinches the hips a bit, shaking her head, until Carrie arrives with the mask. Her mind shows that it's not exactly linear however when she speaks later on, but for now she lays the outfit down and pulls on the mask, giving her war face for a moment. She actually goes 'Grar!' and makes claws with her fingers, wearing Carrie's emergency mask. Doesn't look bad at all actually. She grins a bit, then says, "Batman," almost cryptically. She rolls her eyes, then adds slowly, as if having to choose her words one at a time. "Batman...choose boys. Yes?" As a side note, when she says the word Batman, her stance changes. It resembles Batman, but only for a moment. Him, when he's standing like her. That was recognizable. Carrie smiles again, giving a nod. "He always chooses boys--but sometimes us girls choose him." For a moment the expression that flits across her face isn't cheery, or even recognizable. It's one of thought, rememberance, and sadness as if she were missing something. Her eyes shut with a single deep breath as she straightens her shoulders. An unconcious reminder of someone constantly reminding her to keep her posture straight. Opening her eyes again she smiles sadly back. "Yes, he chooses boys." Cassandra Cain hrms. She gives this little bit of words her attention like the deepest conversation. She's had hints of something from Carrie for ages. Some small stuff has to come out eventually. Cassandra says, "I was to say, girls choose Batman." But her expression is frowning and thoughtful, but she seems to have trouble with what to do about it. Then she facepalms as if figuring something out. It took a while. In her odd, unused voice she adds, "David Cain." "We do. He tries so hard to be by himself, but we know better," Carrie adds with a fond grin only to turn away from her mirror image to look at Cassandra. The name was unfamiliar to her. "Who?" Cassandra Cain puts the mask aside a moment, motioning Carrie to the batcomputer. "David Cain, now." She demands of the inanimate object. The computer pulls up lists of the famed assassin which may be of use to Carrie but are useless to the other girl. "Video, Cassandra Cain. Show." A video comes up taken obviously years ago, of David Cain's face. The data listed on the side screens show his stats. Hugely lethal and expensive assassin, trained in all forms of martial arts and weapons. Many kills. On the video however it shows Caine pulling away from the camera to see a young Cassandra disassembling a walther ppk in the background. He turns around and smiles at the little girl, then shoots her in the back. She rises quickly, dodges the next shot, and disarms him. Then proceeds to hug the man like a father, and he hugs her back. No words exchanged, but the video was like watching a fast-motion action sequence that ended up with a father-daughter bonding moment. Carrie turns away from Cassandra toward the computer when it queues to life. She was allowed a great deal of access to things in the Batcomputer, things that perhaps others weren't allowed access to, but she hadn't pried. Certainly not about allies. This was something she had never seen before. Stepping toward the computer she pauses several feet in front watching with a studious expression. She was studying the man in the video. Reading his crimes. Watching. And when it's revealed that there's a connection between the two her head tips up just a bit watching with a tension to her form when the shot is fired at the girl and she reacts. When the video ends she turns to regard Cass again. All she can do is nod. "Your father." Cassandra Cain nods at Carrie as she watches the emotional interplay of the girl's body when she watches Cain shoot her, and what happens after. And she learns from it. Of course she does. Her face is a little tight as well, but she says, "Father, yes," and then looks at Carrie intensely as if expecting something else. "Your father?" And her stance says 'batman' just as clear as day as the screen freezes on David Cain resetting the camera. There's a single blink from Carrie, slow and thoughtful, before fixing her gaze on Cassandra again. No smile is on her face--she's just still, and calm. It only lasts a moment but in that moment she resembles Batman even if there was no actual physical resemblance. Then she smiles again ducking her head in a nod. "I love him. My parents aren't... weren't good role models." Smiling with amusement she states again, "He chooses boys, but I chose him. And it worked. We worked." Ducking her head with a sheepish look she adds, "Don't tell Damian. It'd be weird." Cassandra Cain rolls her eyes at the mention of Damian, but the rest of the speech was met as equals. She had no hostility or challenge in her eyes for that speech, even the part that wasn't spoken. She may have missed some details but she did get the basic overall idea. And Cassandra touches her fist against Carrie's quietly, her language one of touch in a lot of ways. But mentioning Damian does lighten the tone a bit. "Damian strange now." She promptly holds out her sewed sports bra with an upside-down batsymbol in yellow on the front, eyes shining with mischief. Carrie grins at the fistbump only to nod again. It was strange getting used to this method of conversation but she was trying. It was a new challenge at least. The upside down bat symbol and mention of Damian causes her to laugh with obvious amusement. "Yeah he can be a bit..." she lifts a hand making a crazy circling motion by her ear though she still grins fondly. Cassandra Cain doesn't argue that point. From her cocked hips and knowing smile she suggests there might be a bit more involved than just that, but she doesn't actively say anything on the topic. With her voice anyway. In the files, where Carrie can see it but Cassandra couldn't read if her life were on the line is a flashing phrase: Extremely dangerous. Do not allow students to engage. It's beside David Cain's name. And it's also beside Cassandra's. Carrie glances past Cassandra's shoulder to the flashing text taking it in. There's no hint of suspicion or uncertainty--She'd been dealing with Damian long enough she could recognize skill when she saw it. Damian was raised to be a killer, too. "Come on, let's finish your costume repairs. I'll help," she assures gesturing toward the pile of leather and fabric.